


Sha-Blind

by CactusPot



Category: Total Drama (Cartoon)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Continuation, Friendship, Gen, POV First Person, Post-Canon, just two friends with a half a brain cell vibing in toronto, lightning needs glasses but we shouldve expected that, takes place four months after All Stars :)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:48:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26362915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CactusPot/pseuds/CactusPot
Summary: “Okay, Lightning, spit it out.”“Spit what out?” Boom, perfect deflection. Playin’ dumb was my specialty.“You know when Chris promises the challenge isn’t gonna be painful? Yeah, you’re acting like that.” Jo folded her arms. That’s how you knew she wasn’t playin’ around. “Stop acting squirrely, Brightning. What’s going on?”“We aren’t actually going to the stadium,” I blurted out. “We’re going shopping. Sha-surprise!”-----Lightning needs moral support for a very important decision, and for some reason he decides Jo is the perfect person for the job. Sounds simple enough, right? Absolutely wrong.
Relationships: Rudolph "Lightning" Jackson & Jo
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	Sha-Blind

**Author's Note:**

> A few weeks ago I was like "Lightning probably needs glasses." Then I accidentally got glued to the headcanon, and the outcome was this lil' fic. :)

You can’t really blame me for not listening to Jo. I mean, between admiring my sha-gorgeous muscles or paying attention to her, there ain’t a competition. I flexed my arms and grinned at the view. This fall I’d been trainin’ especially hard for my final high school football season, and it was all paying off: I was lookin’ toned as ever. 

“Sha-mazing,” I muttered, tilting my arm so I could get a more rounded view of myself. Good thing doc said I was nearsighted, not farsighted. How am I supposed to _live_ if I can’t see my biceps or any other one of my beautiful muscles?

“Hey! Jockstrap!” Jo snapped her fingers in front of my face. “I asked you a question!”

I blinked and dropped my arms. Her expression registered as a 4 on the ‘Is Jo Gonna Kill Me’ scale—with a 1 being ‘totally chill’ and 10 being ‘prepare for bloody murder.’ Since my life wasn’t in danger, I flashed her a charming smile that was sure to bring her down to a 2. “Sorry, Lightning got distracted. Whatchu need, girl?”

Jo rolled her eyes. She’d told me several times not to call her ‘girl,’ but again, you can’t really blame me for not listening. When we met last year, I spent an entire two weeks thinkin’ she was a dude! I can’t slip up again, can’t look like an idiot in front of Jo or anyone else.

“I asked,” Jo repeated deliberately, “if we can stop at a sporting goods store on the way back.”

 _Huh_? My eyebrows rose. “Why? Lightning thought you hated shopping!”

“I hate shopping for disgusting, frilly, _girly_ clothes,” Jo corrected me. She mimed gagging—talk about a drama queen, right?—then she relaxed and smiled. “However, I am willing to buy any and all gear recommended by Matt Tremblay.”

My shoulders stiffened at the mention of the Toronto Argonauts’ star quarterback. Sha-whoops. I hadn’t told her the truth yet; still needed to do that between here and the store. But for now, I said, “Oh yeah, that dude.” 

I coughed—Jo hadn’t noticed my fumble, had she?—and kept talking. “So you refuse to try any of the workouts the Lightning recommends, but you’ll buy anything from Tremblay, no questions asked? Sha-harsh.”

Jo chuckled. “You’re ignoring a key difference: you are a high school senior with a god complex, and Tremblay is one of the most proficient quarterbacks in the CFL.”

God complex? Didn’t know what that meant, but if I asked Jo, she’d lord it over my head for the next few hours. So I went with a different route. “Lightning is a pro quarterback, too! Just wait until he makes it to the big leagues.” Hopefully, in a year or two, I’d get my big break, provided my image didn’t get sha-ruined by, uh, my g-l-a-s-s-e-s.

“Your workouts are so easy, even Cameron could finish them,” Jo teased, a playful smirk on her face.

“Girl, no _way_ is the Lightning on the same level as Cameron!” Yeah, after All Stars ended I formed an uneasy truce with that lil’ string bean, but I ain’t gonna stand being compared to him like that!

Jo just kept grinning at me. Indignantly, I added, “Take that back!”

“Fine, fine.” Unbothered, Jo rested her arms behind her head. “Your workouts aren’t _that_ babyish. But my point still stands. I can learn more from someone who’s been in the industry longer.”

The taxi turned onto a new street. Oh, right, should’ve mentioned that—Jo and I sat in the back of a taxi that had taken us straight from the Toronto airport. Don’t get me wrong, I knew how to drive, but, uh, Pops wouldn’t let me take the car out until after today’s errand. Plus, taxis feel fancier anyways. Gotta get prepared for the big leagues when I’ll be chauffeured around from event to event.

Our destination neared as the taxi drove further into the heart of Toronto’s shopping district. Face pressed against the window, I watched shops and restaurants smudge past.

“Lightning needs to get a good look at all these restaurants,” I said, kinda under my breath. Jo heard me anyways.

“Why?” she asked.

“Started makin’ a list,” I explained. “It’s called ‘List Of Restaurants To Celebrate My Superbowl Victory At.’” The sticky note was tacked above my bed, among a myriad of sports trophies.

“Look, there’s Jakob’s Steakhouse!” I pointed at a building that flashed by. I couldn’t read the sign on account of my bad vision, but the restaurant’s signature neon red sign gave it away. “That’s one of the best places in town!” Coincidentally, it was one of Matt Tremblay’s favorite restaurants, but I didn’t tell Jo that 'cause I didn’t want to bring up the dude any more than I had to.

When I tore my gaze from the window and looked over at Jo, she was smiling. “After you win, don’t forget to invite me, Powderpuff! I’m never one to turn down a five-star steak.”

“You’re number one on the sha-guest list,” I assured her, even though technically she was more like, number fourteen, after my teammates, coach, Pops, and whatever honey I managed to snag as a date. 

Still, I appreciated her confidence in my ability to sha-win, which was pretty much the reason I’d picked Jo to come with me today, even if she didn’t know why yet.

But anyway, I leaned forward so our sha-chauffeur could hear me better. “Ay, driver! Slow down!”

Jo's brow furrowed, and she also leaned closer. “No, speed up!” she demanded. “I didn’t spend two and a half hours on a plane just to spend _another_ hour in a taxi!”

“Hey, what’s so bad about this taxi?” I pouted, slightly disrespected. Jo and I’d only been friends for like, four months, but apparently she still didn’t fully appreciate the gift of _the_ _Lightning’s_ company.

“I’m just itching to get out and stretch my legs,” Jo said. “There was practically no room on that dumb plane. Would it kill you to buy me first-class tickets?”

Yep, I’d paid for her to fly out here; and they say Lightning isn’t generous! 

“Pops and I’ll getcha some next time,” I said. As long as I’m killin’ it at football, Pops is totally chill with footin’ the bill whenever I want to hang out with my out-of-province friends, which pretty much exclusively means anyone I met on Total Drama—Brick, Dawn, Lindsay, and, obviously, Jo.

“Where exactly _is_ the stadium?” Jo craned her neck to look out her window. “How far away are we?”

I froze again. Sometimes I ain’t the most eloquent with my words. _Sha-dang, brain, don’t quit on me now_!

“Uuuuuh,” I drawled, stalling for time. _Does forty or fifty minutes sound more reasonable_?

Jo’s eyebrow rose and her lips pursed.

 _Oh, crud_.

“Okay, Lightning, spit it out.”

“Spit what out?” Boom, perfect deflection. Playin’ dumb was my specialty.

“You know when Chris promises the challenge isn’t gonna be painful? Yeah, you’re acting like that,” She folded her arms. That’s how you _knew_ she wasn’t playin’ around. “Stop acting squirrely, Brightning. What’s going on?”

 _Well, I gotta tell her sooner or later_. 

“We aren’t actually going to the stadium,” I blurted out. “We’re going shopping. Sha-surprise!”

The storm on her face disappeared. Its replacement was a vacant stare identical to the one I reserved for physics class. “...What.”

Time to explain the whole sha-dealio.

“See, Lightning had an eye doctor appointment last week, and guess what? Apparently the Lightning’s vision ain’t as good as his football skills, because he needs glasses!” I hesitated before pressing on. “So now we’re going to the store to pick them out! Sha-bam!” 

I grinned. _Man, I should get a trophy for that perfect explanation_. Wait, if I got a Best Explanation Giver trophy, where would I put it? Probably not with my sports trophies. Maybe I should order a new shelf for non-athletic awards.

As I was mapping out the new shelf in my mind, I looked at Jo. She clenched and unclenched her fists, and her eye twitched, sure signs I was dealing with a 9 on the ‘Is Jo Gonna Kill Me’ scale.

…Maybe the shelf could wait.

“Let me get this straight,” she said, her voice low. “You told me we’d be going to the Argonauts’ stadium for a meet-and-greet with Matt Tremblay, one of buffest athletes ever.” Her voice climbed higher with each sentence. “I flew from _Winnipeg_ to _Toronto_ for this. And now that I am in a taxi with the biggest idiot on the planet, you are informing me you _lied_? For _what_?”

I flashed her a killer smile. “So you can help me pick out the perfect glasses! Sha-duh!” Honestly, Jo could be so dense sometimes.

Jo looked more furious than Pops when I didn’t make the team in grade six. “You know I hate shopping for anything that _isn’t_ sports junk! We literally talked about this two minutes ago!”

“Yeah, which is why I didn’t tell you,” I said as calmly as I could. Maybe she’d catch the good vibes and calm down.

Jo did not catch the vibes _or_ calm down. “You could have texted me _photos_! I didn’t need to physically be here!” She stopped screaming for a moment to slump in her seat; her seatbelt tugged against her chin. “I gave up a rock-climbing weekend for this! Newsflash: shopping for your dumb glasses is way less fun than rock-climbing wi—”

“Hey!” I cut her off. “Hangin’ out with Lightning is just as fun as climbing some dumb old’ rocks.” Which was true, by the way. “Plus, everyone knows that phone cameras screw with the quality. You need to be here to get the full experience.”

“And you didn’t call up Anne Maria, who _actually lives here_? Or even Brick? They both have a _way_ better eye for this kind of stuff.” Jo shoved her hand into her pocket and pulled out her phone. “Here, let me call Brick now. I know for a fact he has nothing better to do today.”

Impulsively, I slapped the phone out of her hand. It clattered to the dirty taxi floor.

“Blindning! What gives!” Jo scooped up her phone and met my gaze with a withering glare. Too bad for her that I hadn’t found her intimidating since Revenge ended last year; I matched her scowl with one of my own.

“Sha-dang, Jo, I need you for this!”

“Why _me_?”

“You’re an athlete, too! Lightning can’t be walking around looking like a nerd, and you’d never steer me wrong!” Out of any of my friends, Jo could relate to my position the most. We both had reputations to uphold, and she understood that. At least, I thought she did.

Jo’s scowl twisted as she looked down at her phone, its screen lit up with unread messages. “Fine,” she spat, finally looking up at me. “I’m here now, so I may as well. But you owe me, _big time_.”

 _Sha-victory_! A touchdown-dance grin split across my face. “Thanks, Jo! You ain’t gonna regret it, Lightning swears!”

No smile. “Whatever.”

The worst was over; though she was clearly still ticked—I’d pin her as a 5 on the scale—at least she wouldn’t try to sock my eye out. I relaxed in my seat, glanced out the window, and furrowed my brow at the unmoving scenery. 

“Hey, how come we aren’t sha-moving?”

The taxi driver twisted in his seat to face us, his gaze firmly planted on the space between Jo and me. “We’ve, ah, been sitting outside your destination for several minutes.”

“Figures,” Jo scoffed.

I hopped out of my side and instructed the driver to put it on Pops’ tab. Dang, that guy deserved a trophy or somethin’ for sitting through Jo’s screeching. Speakin’ of, Jo was walking to the front of the eye center. I sprinted past her—slamming into the door in the process—and pulled the handle open.

“After you, girl!” Pops would be _so_ proud of my chivalry. Jo breezed past without so much as a word. She’d crack sooner or later; nobody could resist _the Lightning_ for long. 

I followed her in, and a short lady with crazy curly hair approached us. She had no concept for personal space, ‘cause she was like two inches from me, close enough that I could read her name tag clearly: Rubin.

“Wassup, Curly?” I asked, opting to nickname her instead.

“Good afternoon!” Rubin smiled cordially. “You were in here with Doctor Lee last week, correct?”

I nodded. “Got that right. I’m back to pick out my specs! But not the nerdy kind, the cool kind. Right, Jo?” I looked over at her. _Back me up_.

She blew a strand of blonde hair out of her face. “Uh-huh.”

“Fantastic. Please, look around”—Rubin gestured to the walls lined top to bottom with glasses of all kinds—“and let me know if you need help. When you _do_ make a selection, let me or one of my associates know.”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it,” Jo said sharply. “Buzz off.”

Rubin pursed her shriveled lips and shuffled off to help another customer.

All that was left to do was browse the rows and rows of glasses and pick out the coolest ones. Easy peasy lemon sha-squeazy. 

“You know what we’re lookin’ for, right?” I asked Jo as I scanned the rows for something appealing.

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Jo selected a pair of glasses—vomit green, sha-nasty—and held them up to my face. “Dude. These are uglier than Mike!”

 _Say what_? I made a face. “When’s the last time you talked to him?”

“All Stars.”

“That was four months ago. Why bring Mike into this?”

“The only people we both know competed on that stupid show.” Jo waved the frames around. “Would you rather me compare these to Scott? Or Cameron? Hey, why don’t you buy the same frames that Stringbean wears! Then you guys can be twins! The Bubble Brothers!” Jo cackled.

The entire point was that I _didn’t_ look like that skinny nerd. Or had Jo forgotten that? I rolled my eyes. “Lightning is starting to forget why we’re sha-friends.”

Jo shot me a dirty look. “You have no right to complain. _You’re_ the one who invited me here under false pretenses.”

 _What do tents have to do with anything? We’re not camping_. I wasn’t gonna ask that particular question. Before I could think up a better reply, Jo held up new frames, orange and octagonal. 

“What about these?” She shoved them at my face, and I yelped and ducked away.

“No way! Who _made_ those ugly things? Lightning wouldn’t be caught sha-dead in them!”

“I’ll bring them to your funeral, then,” Jo promised, returning them to their place on the rack. “Hey, what’s your budget for this?”

“Sha-billion,” I said, mostly as a joke. Still no smile from Jo, so I corrected myself. “Nah, Lightning can get pretty much anything. Pops is cool with me spending whatever, as long as my grades are up and my team’s winning.”

“Okay, but since you’re _clearly_ failing a class, what’s the limit?” Jo pressed.

That sha-hurted. “For your information, Lightning is passing all his classes! He ain’t an idiot!”

“Yeah, and I’m not a champion sprinter.” Jo rolled her eyes.

 _What is this girl’s problem_? Her attitude was the _last_ thing I needed right now. Maybe I should have picked Anne Maria or Brick… Well, I had to suck it up and deal with Jo, even if she wasn’t helping as much as I’d hoped.

Jo grabbed another pair of frames, these ones thick and chunky. Instead of harassing me, she slipped them on her own face. “Look! I’m a loser!” Then she cackled like a maniac.

I huffed and snatched a random pair off the rack. I shoved the silver frames onto my face, spun around, and squinted at an advertisement on the far wall. Still sha-blurry.

“Hey, what gives?” I blinked. “These ain’t fixing my vision!”

“‘Cause they’re fake lenses, Brightning,” Jo snapped from behind me. “C’mon, even toddlers know that!”

 _You can’t hit a lady_ , I reminded myself as I turned back to face her. Jo wasn’t even _looking_ at me. Her face was sha-glued to her phone screen.

“Jo! You ain’t even sha-helping!” I threw my hands up in the air. 

“Sorry,” Jo said, not sounding very sorry. She finished her text and put the phone away. “Now, let’s see. Would you prefer zebra stripes or leopard spots?”

 _And look like a five-year-old girl_? I scowled. “Can’t you at least try and be serious? You haven’t said anything helpful this entire time!”

Jo’s eyes narrowed, and she suddenly shot up a few levels on the ‘Is Jo Gonna Kill Me’ scale. “Well _excuse me_ for not being excited to help you shop after you pretty much kidnapped me!”

Oh no, this girl was not for real. “Lightning did not kidnap you! Lightning lied to you so that you’d come help him with a very important decision!”

“So you’re _admitting_ you lied to me!” Jo said angrily. “That’s screwed up! You get how that’s screwed up, right?”

“Sha-please, you’ve lied to me too! Don’t pretend you’ve forgotten about kickin’ me off second in All Stars.” Jo was totally being a hypochondriac right now.

“Is this what this is about? You said it yourself, All Stars was months ago!”

“No, this is about Lightning needing support during this decision!” I blurted out. “He’s supposed to be a star athlete, not some skinny nerdling with glasses. But I guess I’m not getting any support from you!”

“I— _what_?” Jo sputtered.

“You’ve been acting like a total jerk since we got here!”

“I have been acting like a jerk because I’m _rightfully peeved_ about not getting to meet one of my favorite athletes!” Jo yelled. “What do you not understand about this?”

“You’re hangin’ out with the Lightning instead! It’s a win-win!” ‘Cause come on, who _doesn’t_ want to hang out with me? Well, Jo, apparently, but she’s fake for that.

“It is not!” Jo yelled.

“Um, excuse me?” Rubin popped up out of nowhere. “Can you two please move this outside? This is a small store, and you’re disrupting the customers.” Some middle-aged dudes were glaring at us; I blew a raspberry at them.

“We were just leaving,” Jo grumbled. She returned her glasses to the wall and stalked outside.

“Sha-sorry, Curly,” I said to Rubin, taking off my own and handing them back to her.

“Er, no problem,” she said drily. “Feel free to return when you’re able to control your volume.”

As if it was my fault Jo started a screaming match in the middle of the eye store. I stood still for a moment; if I walked outside, Jo might try to ambush me. Or maybe she’d booked it down the street to cool off.

Out of nowhere, a voice in my head asked, _How would you feel in her position_? Pretty sha-mazing, that’s for sure. One Lightning plus one Lightning equals two Lightnings, which is double the awesome! I’d kill to hang out one-on-one with me, even if it was at an eye care center.

But maybe… that was the problem? Jo wasn’t me. She’d never liked me as much as I liked myself.

 _What if you were supposed to hang out with yourself, but then you got stuck with a B-list linebacker instead_? Now that would suck. Things made more sense now. Also, okay, I shouldn’t have lied to her. Shoulda just been straight up, and if she still didn’t wanna come, I coulda just asked Anne Maria or Brick.

Maybe I don’t think things through sometimes. But only sometimes! 

I flexed my biceps again—a reminder that no matter what, I was a total king—and walked outside to find her.

I didn’t have to look very far; Jo leaned against the wall, talking into her phone. When she saw me, she said, “Gotta go. See ya tomorrow” and hung up on whoever the heck she was talking to.

“Aight, listen,” I said as seriously as I could manage. “Lightning’s sorry he lied to you and got your hopes up. That was totally not cool of me.”

It was kinda funny I was apologizing now. Back in July, four months ago, she’d been the one apologizing to me, after we both got kicked off All Stars. Anne Maria had picked me up from Germa—I mean France, and I hung out with Hot Blonde Girl—I mean Lindsay, until the following day, when Brick dropped off Jo’s sorry butt at the losers’ hotel. She said sorry for convincing the team to boot me off. At first, I hadn’t listened to her, ‘cause that had been a jerk move and I didn’t ever want to talk to her again. But then Sam showed up after Jo, she suggested that we TP his hotel room, and sha-bam! One apology accepted, one instant friendship, and one annoyed gamer dude.

“Lightning!” Jo’s fingers snapped in front of my face. Oh crud, had she been talking the entire time? “You gotta stop zoning out on me, buddy!”

“My bad!” My head jerked back, just in case she tried to punch me. “Just thinking about toilet paper.” Jo gave me a look like I’d sprouted three heads. “What were you saying?”

Jo rolled her eyes. She rolled them so often, I was starting to worry they’d get stuck in the back of her head. But anyways, Jo said, “You acted like a major prick.”

“Yeah, Lightning figured. If you want to go back to Winnipeg, I can probably get you a flight in an hour or somethin'.” 

“I’ll stay.” She frowned. “Mostly I just wanted you to realize how much you suck. Promise you’re not gonna pull a stunt like that ever again?”

“Cross my heart, hope to sha-fly, stick a football in my eye!” I promised.

“ _Riiiight_ ,” Jo drawled. “Anyways, I’ll help you with your crippling insecurity, which I don’t _totally_ understand, but whatever.”

“It’s just, y’know.” I crossed my arms. “Whoever heard of a star quarterback that wears glasses?”

“You can get contacts, dude,” Jo pointed out. “I’m pretty sure they’re safer for football, anyways.”

I shuddered. “Putting tiny little discs on my eyeballs? Sha-nasty.”

Jo made a face. “Then just start with glasses, ‘kay? I’ll actually help this time, and I promise you’re not gonna look like a nerd.”

“Promise?” I prompted.

She sighed dramatically. “Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a football in my eye.”

We returned inside. Rubin eyed us warily, so I mimed zipping my lips. Hopefully she got the message.

“Okay, personally, I’d just get black glasses,” Jo said, finally sincere. “Black is serious, you know? Shows you mean business.”

“Good point, girl.” I approached the left wall, which housed an assortment of glasses with darkened lenses. “Hey! What if I got sha-sunglasses?”

“Transition lenses?” Jo joined me. “I’m not your optometrist, I don't care. Go for it, dude.”

I reached out to take a pair of black glasses when another pair caught my eye. _Ooh, shiny_. These glasses were the exact opposite of black: bright gold, the same color as my favorite MVP trophy. I took the gold glasses off the shelf and slid them on.

I looked directly at her. “Aight, Jo, how you feelin’ about these?”

She raised an eyebrow and, after a moment, shrugged. “Not _my_ style, but I think it suits you.”

“You mean it?” I whipped out my phone and flashed a grin at the front-facing camera. Sha-dang, gorgeous as ever!

 _Why was I worryin’ so much in the first place? I look sha-hot in everything_!

Jo laughed suddenly. “Hey, guess who just remembered laser eye surgery exists?” I was gonna guess, but she kept talking. “You don’t even need to get glasses at all, just go in and get your eyeballs touched up or whatever.”

“Hmmm.” I stared at my reflection. The glasses looked dope. “Actually, I think I’m gonna keep the glasses for a while, try them out. Lightning looks pretty ‘debby air.’”

“ _Debonair_ ,” Jo corrected me. “You sure about this pair?” I nodded. “C’mon, then, let’s find that uptight sales lady.”

I sat down across from Rubin and we hashed out the deets of my prescription and stuff. Jo stood around, texting on her phone. Rubin measured my face so the glasses would fit properly. I handed over Pops’s credit card and _bam_. Transaction complete. I’m so great with sha-money.

“What gives?” Jo asked as we walked out of the eye center. “Do you not get your glasses today?”

“Lightning is pickin’ them up next week,” I said. “Somethin’ about resizing the lens or something.”

“Dang. Are you gonna drag me out here for the pickup?” Jo asked sarcastically.

“Nah. I’ll just send you a selfie,” I said. “I’m gonna send everybody a selfie, ‘cause I’m gonna look sha-hot!”

“Um no.” Jo punched my shoulder lightly.

I raised my hand to hail a taxi, but Jo slapped it down.

“Hey!” I yelped, rubbing my wrist. Sha-rude!

“Remember when I said you owe me _big time_? I’m cashin’ in the favor now.” She pointed down the street. “We’re goin’ for a steak lunch, your treat.” 

I squinted. “Sha-what are you pointing at?”

Jo gave me a look. “Context clues, doofus! Remember that steakhouse we passed on the way here? Jake’s Steakhouse or whatever?”

“ _Jakob’s_ Steakhouse.” I rubbed my stomach. “Lightning is always down for extra protein!”

“Cool.” Jo gasped and pointed over my shoulder. “Oh my gosh, it’s Chris!”

“What the what?” I whipped my head around, but that sicko host dude was nowhere to be seen. I looked back to Jo, but she’d already sprinted halfway down the block.

“Hey!” I took off after her. Nobody juked out Lightning like that and got away with it!

I caught up to her pretty quick, and then we were sprinting down the street like nobody’s business. Sure, we almost trampled some people, but they should’ve watched where they were going!

Jo insisted it was a tie, but I grabbed the door handle first so technically I won.

We walked into Jakob’s Steakhouse barely even winded.

“Table for two, please,” I told the dude at the front. He looked at me for a few seconds and then led us to our table.

I scoured the menu immediately. “Hey, Jo, which steak do you think has the most protein?”

Jo mumbled something in response before abruptly sitting up straight.

“Lightning,” she said, “turn around.”

“Lemme guess, Chris McLean is behind us?” I kept looking through the menu. “Nice try, girl, but you used that prank already.”

Jo ripped the menu out of my hands and hissed at me. “No, dummy, not Chris! Matt Tremblay!”

“Lightning is _not_ sha-dumb,” I told her, batting at my menu. “Gimme that back!”

“I swear on Anne Maria’s disgusting hair spray collection, Matt Tremblay is seated _right over there_!”

Sha-fine, I took the bait and looked over my well-muscled shoulder. That's when my jaw dropped. ‘Cause yeah, she _wasn’t_ lying: a few yards down from us, the Toronto Argonauts’ star quarterback was eatin’ a sirloin steak. 

My eyeballs almost popped out of my head. I’d met all kinds of superstar athletes—thanks, Pops!—but this hit way different. Tremblay right here, right now? The odds were a shabillion to one.

“Well, this _is_ his favorite restaurant,” I said, watching as Tremblay cut into his steak.

“And you didn’t _tell_ me?”

“He mentions it in half the interviews he does! Lightning assumed you’d know!”

Without hesitation, Jo marched over and introduced herself to Tremblay. I followed after her and showed off my muscles. Even though his lunch’d been interrupted by two random teenagers, Tremblay was pretty chill. He even gave me a fistbump. Note to self: when I’m a rich football superstar, always be nice to the fans. Don’t wanna crush their dreams or anything.

After Jo got both equipment recommendations and steak recommendations, we went back to our table.

“How cool was _that_!” she said immediately. “I mean seriously, talk about a stroke of luck!”

I picked up my menu again. “Bet you’re glad Lightning invited you out here, huh?”

“Yeah. Today wasn’t a total waste. Even if we hadn’t run into Tremblay, we learned something very important: I have better eyesight than you.”

I stuck my tongue out at her, and then we started arguing about which appetizer to order. Sha-delicious.

**Author's Note:**

> After three months of writing from Jo's POV, writing from Lightning's was surprisingly hard; I literally rewrote this story three times. Originally, it was going to be third-person POV because I usually write that way. However, after the second draft I decided that first-person would better fit Lightning's self-centered, slightly-oblivious personality.  
> Matt Tremblay isn't a real dude, I just googled 'canadian last names' and picked one that sounded kinda football-ish.


End file.
